Kill Butch
by Mistress of Horror 1999
Summary: Everyone betrayed me. Butch, my sisters, my friends...everybody. I may look like a normal schoolgirl, but I'm not. I'm hell-bent on revenge. I want them all to suffer. Especially Butch, who put that bullet into my skull. He took everything from me...my dignity, my image, and my baby. I've gone through hell. And now I'm on my way...to kill Butch.


_**Prologue**_

I lay there in a bloody mess.

Wounds rocked my body. Blossom fired a shot into my right arm, my shoulder, and my stomach; Bunny had thrown ninja star blades from my chest down to my legs; Bubbles kicked me in the mouth and broke my jaw, as well as three of my teeth. The blood on my face resembled an Indian with war paint ready to go into battle. I was shaking. And, for the first time in forever, I was crying, too.

My sisters stood over me. They seemed proud of the work they had done. But the three of them weren't smiling, nor were they upset. To them, I (in a bloody mess) was like a piece of art in a museum that nobody understood.

Bubbles broke the tension. "Maybe we should just put her out of her misery. She seems to be in a lot of pain."

Bunny shook her head. "No. Leave it to Butch."

Blossom said nothing. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her gun in the holster on her belt. For a split second, our eyes met. She checked her watch. "5:15 PM. He should be here…"

Bunny turned around. "And…he _is_."

That's when I heard his footsteps: Butch. The boy I loved…the boy…who had sent my (so-called "loving") sisters to kill me. In just six minutes and forty-two seconds, I had my ass handed to me.

Butch stood over me, and my sisters—completely satisfied—left. Sweat covered my body and I could feel all of my broken bones. I had seen a movie like this once **[1]**. I think life is funny when shit like that happens; all of the déjà vu that you experience.

He knelt down and stroked my face with the back of his hand.

"Do you still love me?"

I closed my swollen eyes.

"Do you still love me?" he asked again.

"Butch…"

"Answer me, baby."

"Why did you do this?"

He shook his head; I saw the pain in his forest-green eyes. Butch sighed. "You were going to leave me. And take all of my secrets with you. I trusted you, Buttercup."

My eyes widened. "No! No, Butch. Please don't do this—!"

"Shhhh!" he whispered. "I'll make this quick…and painless."

I could barely breathe at this point. My body was shutting down already; my heart, my lungs, and the vision in my eyes. All I _could _do was hear everything around me. I heard my sisters whispering outside of the building; I heard the motor of the car running; Butch's breathing.

Butch smirked. "I know you still have energy left, BC." For once, he was wrong. Did he even know (as far as _care_) that I was dying? "Come on, I want you to do it, I want you to do it. Come on, hit me!" **[2] **

As children, we would always play that game: bloody knuckles. I would almost win sometimes, but Butch claimed victory at the last minute (every time). And whenever I returned home, my mother would always wash my knuckles—bruised and beaten—in the kitchen sink. _Butters_, she would say. _That boy's gonna kill you one day…_

Oh, the irony in _that_.

Butch realized that I could barely keep my eyes open, so he back off and gave me a few minutes to breath before I died. "You're still bleeding out," he whispered in amazement. "Damn. You are a tough bitch."

"Kill me," I spat, angry.

Butch narrowed his eyes. "I beg your pardon?"

"Kill…._me_…"

"Repeat that, Butters, one more time?"

I cried and threw my head back. "Kill me! Kill me!" I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted this to be over. Of course, with Butch, everything was a game to him. That sick son of a bitch…

"Beg harder."

"Do it…you prick…" I said through my gritted teeth.

He loaded his gun slowly, making me watch with every detail. "I'm gonna enjoy this," Butch said bluntly. "Blowing your brains out…it's like painting a portrait…a bloody portrait of someone you love." He paused. "Oh, silly me, I'm getting carried away. We better get this over with. I can hear the sirens, Butters."

Butch raised his pistol to my head. He moved it to the right, trying to get a better aim (maybe to the center of my forehead). "Before I kill you…any last words?"

I gave him a shit-eating smile. "Yeah…"

"What?"

"I'm pregnant with your baby, you sick fuck—" _BANG. _

My brains flew out onto the floor.

**[1]**- The movie Buttercup is talking about is _Kill Bill Vol. 1 _(2003), starring Uma Thurman. What's ironic is that the _Kill Bill _franchiseis what this fanfic is based on.

**[2]**- The "hit me" quote Butch is saying is from _The Dark Night_ (2008), something that The Joker used against Batman.


End file.
